Futures Are Fragile
by geekischic
Summary: I could still feel the weight of my fragile future bearing down on me as I rested my head in my hands, trying to forget the fact that my future would never be of my own choosing. John-centric, John's point of view, full summary inside


**A/N: All right, this is written from John's point of view. The main idea of this is the fact that John is realizing how out of control his future really is. Sorry if it seems kind of scattered (I started this two months ago and just came back to it the other day). Please let me know how I did, because I'm still not sure about it. But, hopefully you'll still like it. :)**

-o0o-

Sometimes, I don't even feel human.

I know that's a dangerous thought, considering that the fact that I _am_ human is what has determined my destiny since before I was born. If my life hadn't turned out the way that it has, I doubt I would believe in predestined purposes, but I'm living proof that they exist. I didn't have a choice in what my life would turn out to contain, and that's one freedom I know I'll never have. Yet isn't that the whole essence of being human? Isn't the whole point of humanity that we have the choice to do what we want with our lives? That we have the ability to make mistakes and learn from them? That we have the choice to do stupid or brilliant or heroic things, and face the rewards or consequences that accompany them? Isn't that what philosophers have been telling us for hundreds of years? If the decision to plan out your own destiny is what defines you as a human, then doesn't that mean that I'm anything but the one thing that should define me?

I didn't have the choice to save the whole of humankind. A machine was sent from the future to deliver that message, in its own special way, of course, to my mother before I'd even been born. Before I'd even been _conceived_. The reason I was born wasn't because a man and woman loved each other and wanted to start a family. I was born so that, in the future, I'd be able to lead a rebel alliance of the survivors of mankind to fight against the machines that had taken over the world we'd worked to build for two thousand years. I didn't have the choice to be this leader. Messengers had been sent from the future to tell me that this was the purpose of my life, and it was the only thing I would ever have the choice to do.

When I was a kid, I used to think that my life was a movie. I held my breath after every battle. After every bullet that left my and my mother's fingers, I'd pause and wait for the director to yell 'Cut! That's a wrap!'. But that order never came. And now I've realized that it never will. The battles we must fight have to be fought, whether we want to fight them or not. There will never be a day where everything will just end and we can live a normal life. Even if we succeed in destroying SkyNet, in postponing Judgment Day, we'll always be on the lookout. We'll always be looking for another piece of metal that will tell us that are futures still aren't in our own hands.

-o0o-

Mom thinks I stopped going to school because I found the work tedious or annoying. She thinks I just got tired of wasting my time on schooling I didn't really need, that I didn't want to be around kids my own age. But the truth is that I left school for an entirely different reason. I loved school when I had the choice to go to it. It was one of the few decisions I was able to make on my own in my life. It felt nice to live a 'normal' life, even if only for six hours a day where I could pretend I was like everyone else. It was good while it lasted, but one day it just got to be too much. One bad day that just seemed to keep getting worse and worse, tormenting me with the illusion of a normal life.

I remember that day perfectly, and I'm pretty sure that I'll never forget it. Even after I've witnessed the bombs falling on our civilization, even after I've battled with machines for weeks on end, even after I've seen the suffering of the survivors I must lead, I know that that one day of my teenaged years will never leave my memory. To most kids, it wouldn't have seemed too bad. It would've just been another bad day to factor in to their high school career. But to me, it was the day that had made me realize the isolation and pain that would fill my life until I took my last breath.

I wasn't in school for more than an hour that day, but that just goes to show how little it took to push me over the edge I'd been teetering on for the better part of my short life. I'd found a piece of paper taped to the front of my locker, innocent and plain to those who quickly glanced at it. But when I took it down and read what it said, the seemingly painless words proceeded to tear me to pieces.

It was one of those elementary school games. MASH. You know, that game girls play to see who they'll marry and how their future will play out? The first thought that had run through my head was "What the hell is this doing on my locker?" until I saw the names that had been written on it. The words "Jessie's Future" had been written in pencil at the top of the page, and under the 'husband' category, my name had been scrawled in and circled. I guess some of 'Jessie's' friends had thought it would be funny to tell me about our future together.

To most teenagers, this little game would have seemed like a stupid thing that only elementary school kids played any more. But as I saw all of those words written right in front of me, I felt my knees weaken as I slid down to the floor. They were taunting me, reminding me of a future that I would never have. All the little things that kids took for granted. All of the things that kids believed they'd automatically inherit once they left the confines of high school. The things I would never have.

I felt a dull pain rise up in my chest as I tore my eyes away from the paper. No one had noticed that I'd sat down in front of my locker. No one noticed the tears that had gathered in my eyes. No one noticed the torrent of pain and longing that had suddenly ripped through me.

I watched the cliques that were slowly emptying out of the hallway, heading to their next class. I watched the kids everyone considered geeks because of their dedication to their schoolwork. I watched the girls who'd been best friends since third grade laugh and tell jokes about the teachers they had crushes on. I watched the guys who'd started a garage band and were talking about how they wanted to go pro. I watched all of their hopes and dreams for their futures swim before my eyes, and as they filed out of the hallway, I watched the fragments of what my future could have been float farther and farther away from my grasp.

It didn't take long for the hallway to empty out, and soon I was the only one left to sit with their thoughts. It was so quiet and blank, just sitting there watching my future crumble to pieces around me. I'd felt so strong, so numb, so in control up until that moment, but as I started to break down I realized I couldn't stop it. The walls I'd built around myself to protect me from this very thing proved to be nothing more than paper barriers that crumbled at the first sign of an attack. The pain and longing rushed right through them, and I could do nothing more than scramble to retain the strength I'd once had. But it was too late. I was crumbling to pieces and there was no way to stop it.

Holding back the tears in my eyes, I forced myself to look at the paper once again. To look right into the eyes of what my future should contain. College. A job. A wife. Kids. A house on the beach where my family and I could play in the waves of the ocean whenever we wanted to. I looked at all the little categories that were underlined and circled, planning out what my future could never be. I could have been a doctor, with two kids waiting with my wife at home once my shift ended. I could have walked through the front door of our house to find our dog lying in the doorway ready to greet me as I came home.

My eyes burned as I continued to read the outcomes of such a childish little game, but all the possibilities that everyone took for granted were breaking my heart at that moment. To just see all the things I wished I could have just broke down the strength I'd worked so hard to build up.

"Mr. Baum?" I looked up with empty eyes into the confused glance of Mr. Grady, my chemistry teacher. He seemed wary of my detached state of mind, but I just cocked my head at him as I waited for what he wanted to say. "Yeah?" My voice was empty and hollow, my mind pained and tortured as I continued to let that stupid elementary school game taunt me.

"The bell rang five minutes ago. If you don't head off to class, I'm going to have to give you a detention." I nodded absently and folded up that dreaded piece of paper before placing it in my pocket. He continued to look at me strangely, questioning me without a word as I stood up from where I'd collapsed to the floor. "Thanks." I turned around and headed down the hall towards English, feeling his eyes bore into my back as I walked away from him. But I didn't really care. There were so many more important things in this world than being late for English.

-o0o-

Thirty pairs of eyes followed me as I walked in to class late. I felt the unmistakable awkward silence that accompanied the walk of shame as I gruffly took my seat. I looked up to find the disapproving glare of Mrs. Walker fixed on me as I tried to look as inconspicuous as I could. But it was no easy task. I could still feel the weight of my fragile future bearing down on me as I rested my head in my hands, trying to forget the fact that my future would never be of my own choosing.

"As I was saying," Mrs. Walker cleared her throat, obviously distracted by my unannounced late arrival to her class, "this essay is due on my desk by the end of the day on Friday. The nature of this essay is the contemplation of your future."

My head snapped up and my eyes widened as I heard her begin to explain the prompt to us. The group of kids sitting around me snickered at my reaction as I embarrassed myself once again. They probably thought I was high or something. But I ignored them as one sickening, painful thought ran through my head: _No. Please god, no. Not again._

But, oblivious to my internal war with my conscious, my English teacher continued on with the explanation of this horrid essay. "You are to write an essay explaining what you think your life will be like in five years. I encourage you to be as creative as you want with this."

I felt the anger bubbling up from deep inside me as she walked around the room handing out papers with a smile on her face as she talked about the future. What the hell did she know about the future? How could all these people be laughing and smiling about the possibility of college and a job and a family when they'd be running and screaming and begging for their lives once the ever approaching Judgment Day finally arrived? I looked down at the requirements for this damn essay and felt my fists curl around the paper as I read the note at the bottom of the page: _Remember, your future is your own. Make the best of it._

That's when the fragile grasp of control I'd maintained finally snapped. I tore the paper in half as the rest of the kids in the class watched me like I was insane. Looks of shock and horror met my eyes as I angrily stood up from my desk and proceeded to flip my chair to the ground before running out of the room.

I ignored the cries of, "Mr. Baum! Come back here right this instant!" as I dashed down the hall. I ignored the incredulous looks from teachers and students that leaked through the windows of the classrooms I passed as I dashed down the stairs and into the main lobby. I ignored the angry protests of the people in my way as I shoved past them and out the main door of the school, never slowing the pace I'd began since I'd first stormed out of English.

I ran down the street as fast as my legs would carry me, pushing myself far past the endurance I'd always believed to have. My lungs burned and screamed for me to slow down, but I refused to indulge them as I continued my way down the sidewalk and across the road. Images of where I was going rushed past my eyes until I was running blindly, not knowing where I was going or what I would do when I got there. The dreaded tears I'd held back for so long finally spilled over and burned a path down my cheeks as I ultimately reached my breaking point, once again collapsing to the ground.

I closed my tears and gasped for air as my chest heaved up and down, desperate for the oxygen I so needed. The bright blue of the sky seared into my eyes as I looked straight up, almost as if it too had decided that it was about time it taunted me. My eyes wildly took in my surroundings as my breathing ever so slowly returned to a normal pace, and in a few minutes I realized that I knew where I was.

It was the park where Derek had taken me to on my birthday.

The spot where I'd lain down was facing the place where Derek had introduced me to my father. The memory of Derek and my father playing baseball suddenly rushed back to me, and a fresh set of tears proceeded to fall from my eyes. They were so young. And they would still be so young when SkyNet's bombs eventually fell to the earth they'd been raised to believe was safe.

God, how could this happen? How could all of mankind's hopes and dreams for the future be destroyed in the span of a single day? I felt my body shake with anger and sadness and regret as thoughts of the future continued to torture my mind. It simply wasn't fair. I should be able to grow up like a normal kid. Go to college, get married, have a family. Kyle and Derek should be able to live as normal kids, playing baseball and laughing with each other instead of learning how to shoot a gun to fend off the machines that had destroyed their world. Kids should only have to worry about the stupid English essays that were due at the end of the week instead of wondering if they'd find enough food to survive another day.

And in that moment, I finally realized what Mom has been trying to teach me since I was nine years old. All the plans we make for the future can disappear in the span of a second. You have to be prepared to pick up and leave everything you've ever known in the hope that one day you'd be able to piece those broken dreams back together. I finally realized that everything I would ever want would be unattainable until I could find a way to stop these damn machines from stealing our world from us.

And as I sat there trying to piece my fractured thoughts back together, one final question became apparent to me. If the future was this fragile, like a piece of glass that would chip at the slightest touch, how could we ever make plans to save it?

**-End-**


End file.
